


Always Leaving

by TheCookieOfDoom



Series: Soulmate AUs [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 04:19:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieOfDoom/pseuds/TheCookieOfDoom
Summary: 2. You have your soulmate's name written on your body.





	

Everyone knew about the _tattoos_. They were a gift from the gods, meant to help a person find their soulmate. There would be no question that this person was your person, and you were theirs. When Robb Stark was born, his tattoo was nothing but an illegible scrawl of black ink on his shoulder blade. Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Stark were disappointed, believing their son had no soulmate. It wasn’t unheard of, of course, men and women being born without tattoos, or with tattoos that were muddled like Robb’s. It wasn’t long, however, before the tattoo changed from an inky mess to a beautifully written script. Catelyn knew then that they would continue as if he has no soulmate; she did not know who this “Jon” was, but she knew that he was not only a boy, but a Snow, and therefore could not be allowed to be with her son.

When her husband returned from the war with a babe of the name Jon Snow swaddled in his arms, she thought that this was a cruel joke from the gods. Surely they were punishing her, but for what crime she did not know. Perhaps just the simple crime of being a southerner in the north, in possession of a northman whose name was not meant to be hers, for Eddard Stark was not the name written down her spine.

 Jon grew up being told the same thing, over and over, until it was a constant thought in the back of his head. _Don’t let anyone see the name on your neck, don’t tell anyone about it._ When he was just a boy, he didn’t understand why. Robb was his brother, and he loved his brother. Surely it meant they were meant to be brothers and friends forever, right? But as he got older, he begun to understand why Catelyn made him always keep his hair long, even though it was annoying. That no, that’s not what it meant. The name on your neck was the name of someone who was meant to be your family, but not meant to be someone who already was your family.

By the time he was twelve years old, he knew he would never have a soulmate. The gods forbade him from having someone he could be with. By the time he was fourteen, he thought he was alright with that. He was a bastard, anyway, no one would ever want him. No woman would wish to have his children, not that he really wanted any. By the time he was sixteen,he decided that he would go to the wall, with his uncle. He would swear off women and fatherhood, and no one would find it strange for him to not pursue relationships, or at the very least whores. It seemed like the perfect plan.

Of course, even the best laid plans can go south. However, in his case, the south came to him in the form of the king as his family. Catelyn ordered him, as well as Robb and Theon, to be made presentable for the royal family. Jon thought it was pointless, since he would likely go unseen the entire time, so as not to offend anyone with his presence.

Still, as Robb stood, freshly shaved, and pushed a shirtless Jon towards Tommy, he did as he was told. Jon saw the telltale black just peeking over the waistband of Robb’s pant’s before he turned back to face towards Jon.

“Shear him good, Tommy. He’s never met a girl he likes better than his own hair,” Robb joked, and Jon scoffed quietly, refusing to be charmed. He did love his brother, and wished at times like this their fates could have been different, that they would have had a chance. Perhaps if they had been both born as two lowborn boys, not a lick of nobility in their blood, they could have been together.

Jon was distracted enough by Robb’s shirtless form to not think of what Tommy was doing behind him. He realized his mistake too late. “What’s this?” the man mumbled, pushing Jon;s hair aside to look at the back of his neck. Which, of course, drew the attention of the other boys in the room.

“What is it, a hickey? You finally bed someone, bastard?” Theon said. Robb wasn’t nearly so coarse, taking a step over to look and see, curious. Jon put his hand over the back of his neck and stood up abruptly, looking at Robb with wide eyes.

“It’s nothing,” he said, too fast. Hs behavior was suspicious and he knew it, but he didn’t know what else to do. The only alternative was to let Robb see, and Catelyn would surely have his head if that happened. Robb looked at him with a scowl. Theon, however, came up behind Jon to try and pry his hand away, wanting to see what he was so desperate to hide.

“Hey, stop--” Jon kicked at Theon as best as he was able, both hands clamped over the back of his neck.

“Theon, leave him alone,” Robb ordered in the tone he would one day use as lord of Winterfell. Jon couldn’t bring himself to look at Robb as he grabbed his shirts and left the room, still covering his neck with one hand. He expected that Robb would just leave it alone, and Theon would drop it eventually as well. Which was why he was surprised when Robb tracked him down a few hours later.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said, and Jon believed him. He looked like a kicked puppy, it was pathetic, really. But also so endearing. Jon had to banish that thought, lest it lead to others he was not allowed to have.

“It’s fine.” 

Robb was silent for a few minutes, just looking at Jon, and he could see that he brother was burning to ask about it. With a deep sigh, he gestured for Robb to just get it over with.

“Is that your tattoo?” he asked, trying to hide how curious he was.

“Yes.”

“You always told me you didn’t have one.”

“As far as I’m concerned, I don’t. Bastards don’t have tattoos.”

“Jon…” Robb smiled, as if Jon was the fool, stepping closer. For each step closer, Jon stepped back, until he was cornered between Robb and the armory. “I kept hoping you would tell me, eventually.”

“Tell you what?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.”

Robb shook his head with a disappointed sigh, before seeming to make up his mind about something. He pulled up his shirt and turned around, tugging down his pants just enough to show Jon the tattoo of his name. Jone paled; Robb wasn’t supposed to know, Catelyn said that it was in a place where he would never see it.

“Do you still not know what I’m talking about.”

“But--how did you--”

“A whore noticed it and pointed it out a few weeks ago. I probably never would have seen it otherwise. But then, that was the point wasn’t it? You were never going to tell me.”

“Robb…” Jon hesitated, debating whether or not he should say anything, but. Well, what was the point in staying silent any longer, now that Robb knew.

“Your mother forbid from telling you, alright? For as long as I can remember, she’s been telling me not to let anyone find out, and that if anyone asked who my tattoo is, to tell them I don’t have one.”

“Why?”

“You know why. We can’t be together.”

“Yes we can. The gods clearly meant for us to be together, or else they wouldn’t have given us the tattoos.”

“You mother would kill me.”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

“You couldn’t stop her.”

" _Jon_.”

“ _Robb_. We can’t be together. It’ll never happen. Maybe if things were different, but they aren’t. You are the future lord of Winterfell. You will be expected to marry and produce heirs and I can’t do that for you.”

“I can’t marry someone when I know I’m supposed to be with you.”

“Yes, you can. Just like your mother and father.”

“I don’t want to. I _love_ you, Jon.” He flinched away from Robb, eyes closed as he grimaced.

“I love you, too. More than you know. But in a few months, I’m going to the wall for uncle Benjen.” When he opened his eyes again to look at Robb, his brothers were wide.

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s what’s best. For both of us.” He could see Lady Catelyn across the courtyard, staring at them with disapproval over Robb’s shoulder. Or rather, staring at _him_. “I need to go. I’ll see you tonight,” he said, pushing Robb away from him. Robb watched as his brother left him.

For the next several months, it seemed that was all he saw; Jon leaving him again and again, never staying. And when it came time for Jon to leave for the wall, he found he couldn’t watch Jon leave again. He said his farewells and walked away from his brother, wishing that he had been lowborn so that they might have had a chance.


End file.
